![]() ![]() To begin with, Carlos Castaneda must not be mistaken for Margaret Mead, J. This is a deep, multifaceted subject, having both comic and sober sides. ![]() And crows haunting the Irvine campus are taken for don Juan and Carlos Castaneda. Lionel Tiger prowls Manhattan shoulder to shoulder with Robin Fox. A sexy dolphin tries to make it with an off-duty restaurant hostess. ![]() Mild-mannered bumpkins turn into murdering satanic beasts. A soldier is wounded and his mother bleeds. A vacuum-physics experiment implodes just as the Subatomic jinx is passing through town on a train. ![]() Swedenborg sees a fire burning 300 hundred miles away. While I have not joined the Castaneda Idolaters’ Club, neither can I claim membership in the League of Outraged Skeptics-and I certainly do not belong to the Committee to Stamp Out Sorcery. I bring some good news and some bad news, some praise and some blame, some affirmations and some refutations. My own opinions are just as well balanced but not so extreme. Reactions to Castaneda and his works range from visionary enthusiasm, through angry rejection, to complete lack of interest. Al goes on to say that I shouldn’t even begin to write my book until I have taken at least 500 LSD trips. ![]()
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